It was between two brand new cars. Both I liked for different things, and the price was in the same range. I had no idea how to make this sort of decision, it was all in my hands. My parents had limited my cost, and style of car, but I honestly wish they could have helped me by adding even more specific restrictions, which sounds ridiculous for a teenager to say.
I felt lost, I was a complete mess when it came to big decisions like this. I honestly was still shaking with excitement at the thought of having my license yet alone having a car of my own. It was the beginning to more freedom, more than I probably need. But I enjoyed it, nevertheless.
My anticipation grew each day. How could they (my parents) do this to me? Show me two dealerships, narrow it down to two luxury cars, and then tell me to "just wait a few days."A "few days" felt more like a few months. I never thought my desperation would reach to such a point.
Each day when I would arrive home, I would wish that they would have chosen my car and have it sitting in the drive way with a big red velvet bow sitting on top of the black glossy car. Fresh rubber tires on our cement driveway, sitting in the shade, a beautiful car, just for me.
Obviously that wasn't the case. What really happened was me, choosing the one car over the other. Do I regret it? Not really, I guess I don't really know. The big problem I had was colors. It was as if I had no point of view, and that feeling drove me crazy (no pun intended). I had to ask my parents over and over, "Do you like this one? What do you think?"But honestly, it was me who had to make the choice.
Could I honestly be so stupid not to know what I prefer, in colors. The hard part was over, it was suppose to be easy. And with each decision I made, I maid with uncertainty in my trembling voice. My answers started to sound like questions, and then it was all over. The uncertainly changed to a new owner of a car fortunate enough to have been recognized by her parents for her accomplishments, in which I can't be humble enough for such a gift.
______________________Change in point of view to Mom_________________________________
I hope she realizes what I'm doing for her. Its still shocking to me to see my youngest daughter turn into what she is today. I'm proud of her, but I'm scared to let her go. She deserved a new car, shes worked for it, and waited longer than she probably wanted.
Am I doing the right thing? Of course I am, why wouldn't I be? I mean I know she hasn't had a full year practice in the truck like her sister, but Victoria was 17 when she was given a new car. I can only be understanding with Alex. Her health issues have caused this delay, and I want to make up for lost time. What's wrong with that?
I have confidence in her. She's much more responsible and mature than her sister, even being two years younger. Now its time to choose a car, and while listening to the Audi salesman explain the features and safety of the car while Alex sits inside and learns with me, I feel more comfortable with this decision.
Audis safety is much more higher than that of most cars, and its the car I have heard Alex has repeatedly told me she wants. This is it, we're getting her the car of her dreams and I couldn't be anymore...scared. I mean I'm happy for her, but at the same time I have to be a mother and I have the right to be scared.
While Alex is worrying about black, grey or tan colors, all I can think about is her safety! Of course I car about the colors and car itself...I have an opinion of my own too. But at the end of the day I know I have to let her make a decision and I'm sure it will be the right choice. As I take the pen, I firmly sign my signature with approval that everything will be alright.
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